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Trevor Shaw
Email: naomi_bremer@hotmail.com Description Eye Color: Blua Hair Color: Black Height: 5'7" Weight: 180 Age: 17 Place of Origin: Outside Caemlyn, Andor Stats Rank: Trainee Weaopon Score: 4 Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet Primary Weapon: Secondary Weapon: Tertiary Weapon: History Brief History: Trevor is the son of the High Seat of the Shaw House, a very small but still well-off House. His parents, in his eyes, were rather snobby and conceited. He was never close to either of them, although he treated them respectfully and obeyed their wishes (except, of course, when he had really strong feelings that lie down the other path than their wishes). Since he was ten years old, he stayed out of the house as much as possible, preferring to hunt. He could have had a very good teacher from Caemlyn, had he simply asked his parents; but this was one thing that Trevor wanted to be all his own- and so he taught himself. At first, it was rather awkward: his mother's soldiers made swinging a sword about much easier than it actually was. Finally, after two weeks of no improvement, he randomly sought out a soldier and asked him to teach him how to fight. The soldier, who was named Dalcon, agreed heartily, and took leave from his fellows day after day to meet with his young student. Trevor was very eager to learn, but also was cautious in his use of the weapon and obedient to everything Dalcon said to do with it; in doing this, he made a most excellent student. On his seventeenth birthday, being able to swordfight with Dalcon without completely disgracing himself, he decided to show his parents his new skill. Proudly, he arranged for them to be standing upon the porch while he and Dalcon showed them what he had learned. Dalcon was, however, a bit reluctant to do this thing, although he sportingly went along with the plan. They fought- as none of the moves had been planned out, they fought as if for real, although of course Trevor lost. When he had finished, knowing he had fought probably the best he had ever fought, he turned, radiant, to his parents, sheathing his sword with a flourish. He stopped smiling when he saw their faces. His mother rushed down to him, yanking his sword bodily out of his sheath, and causing Trevor to fall backwards. "What are you doing?!" She yelled, shaking the sword in his face. "You will be the High Seat of House Shaw soon! You will have soldiers to hold your swords for you! This is no activity for you. Is this what you have been doing whenever you go out to 'ride'?" And with that, she promptly stripped him of privileges to leave the house without her express permission, and discharged Dalcon without further ado. Trevor became very angry indeed, brooding for the rest of the day. He was going to leave. He HAD to leave. He could not spend another day with these stuffy arrogant things he called his parents. They wouldn't even allow him to learn how to fight without falling on his face! That very night, he went downstairs, filling his saddlebags with as much food as he could stuff in them. He was grateful that everything had been provided for him, Shaw being a well-off House- for he had saved almost every piece of gold and silver that he had ever recieved, and took it with him now. He declined to take his mother's stallion- the best horse in the stables- for the sole reason that it was his mothers- and took instead a rather wild-looking black stallion, with a blaze down the front of his face and an odd white stripe in his tail. Although the horse was, indeed, only half-broken, and rather strange-looking, Trevor soon found that he could run faster than any other horse he had ever ridden, and had a fair amount of endurance- although he shied at almost everything. Trevor held on grimly as Trevor bucked for a few moments, and then took off again down the road that would lead him to Tar Valon. He was going to be a Warder. Category:WS 4 Category:Trainee Category:Biographies Category:Warder Bios